"Mornin’, gorgeous." Dick gave you a smile as he walked into the kitchen, rubbing the smooth skin of his jaw, looking at you as if you were the only woman in the world— to him, at least, as his wife. Except, he couldn’t get something off his mind — and it was killing him fast — and it went back and forth through his head, back and forth, driving him crazy.

A baby, a small baby. Fuck, fuck, it was all he could think about. Dick wanted a small kid to hold. He didn’t even know where it came from, really, he just kept looking furtively at your stomach and wanting to touch it. What has he become?

You, beautiful you, his ethereally sexy wife, and now he thought— he knew you’d be an amazing, strong, brilliant mom. A bona fide stunner of a mother, Jesus.

Ugh. The idea was calling his name. Though he was the oldest brother to three adopted kids, they’re hard work, if Jason was anything to go by. But he wanted it, a kid, with you. He loved you so much that it all slammed in his face so quick, like a goddamn bullet train, it was— it felt exhilarating.

Fuckin’ hormones.

“Lookin’ sexy.” He murmured, wrapping his arms around you from behind, one hand on your stomach. Imagine. He didn’t think he can last much longer without thinking of having a baby, really. Good names would be Bella, Harriet, Ashton, James, shit, he needed to stop. Stop before he really got outta hand.

It’d only taken seeing a couple with a toddler to set it off, the feeling that he couldn’t shake. Fuck.

But he knew he wanted a little bundle of joy.